


It's Just A Bunch Of Hocus Pocus

by toothpasteandtoenails



Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Darcy is a witch, Gen, Human Transformation, Magic-Users, Universe Alteration, Witchcraft, hint of stucky, inspired by hocus pocus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-16
Updated: 2016-05-16
Packaged: 2018-06-08 21:35:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6874564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/toothpasteandtoenails/pseuds/toothpasteandtoenails
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They had all known that there would be consequences for London, and the frightening accuracy with which Jane had manipulated forces beyond average comprehension, but they’d expected it to be bound in politics not violence. </p><p>There is very little that Darcy wouldn't do to protect Jane.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's Just A Bunch Of Hocus Pocus

Her grandmother's favorite curse flitted through her mind followed by echos of the woman's’ cackles as she surrounded herself with felines. Her mad delight had tainted everything she touched which is why Darcy had never been tempted to follow in her Nans footsteps. For her, spending her whole life surrounded by the consequences of violence her desire to perpetuate it had been squashed.

 

Nan had called her a gentle spirit in that mean way she addressed everyone she thought of as lesser. Darcy had worn the indictment as a badge of  pride until the moment she’d stepped out on her own and realized that the scorn might have had more to do with a world willing to take advantage than her own failings.

 

She’d always been one to learn more from experience than words.

 

Her eyes darted from the man - the assassin - before her to Jane’s prone figure and the pool of blood spreading out across the lab floor. There was a very good chance that she was already dead. Intellectually Darcy knew that. Jane was brilliant and if she wanted to she could probably take over the world with stubbornness and science but there wasn’t much she could do if she didn’t see the attack coming.  

 

They had all known that there would be consequences for London, and the frightening accuracy with which Jane had manipulated forces beyond average comprehension, but they’d expected it to be bound in politics not violence.

 

Darcy had no doubt that the only reason she hadn’t already been taken out was that he hadn’t expected her. Or maybe, less time had passed then her mind would make her believe. Things like that happened to her; the world slowing down when she needed it to.

 

The knife shifted in the assassin's hand and Darcy steeled herself. Right or wrong didn’t matter. Only Jane did. Dead or alive - he wouldn’t get another chance to hurt her.

 

“Twist the bones and bend the back,” her voice was low but steady. Not a hint of the melodic tone her Nan had always used was present. “Trim him of his baby fat.”

 

A sharp cry, muffled by the mask across the bottom half of his face, made her pause. It had been ripped from him against his will as he dropped to his knees. Blue eyes darted around the room terrified as his insides twisted. Reshaping themselves into something less dangerous, less human. Horror movies and an overactive imagination let her know the pain he was in as she rewrote him the way she wanted.

 

Whatever regret came later, Darcy couldn’t bring herself to care as she finished the curse, “Give him fur black as black. Just like this.”

 

The transformation took hold as the final word passed her lips. Not bothering to watch the man disappear, she threw herself across the room at Jane. Even as she felt a faint pulse under her fingers, she could feel him in the corner of her mind - scared, confused, with a thread of something she didn’t understand. He would be a part of her, tied to her magic, for the rest of her life but he didn’t matter at the moment.

 

Darcy ignored the feelings and the black cat with a distinctive grey paw quivering in the corner, instead reaching for her phone.  First Jane then she’d deal with the mess she’d just created.

 

Her Nan would be so proud.

 

-=-=-

 

Darcy dropped the sponge into the bucket of warm bleach water. This one was finally more pink than red and the exhaustion was setting in. She’d returned from the hospital earlier to Jane’s blood tracked everywhere, medical waste in piles around where her best friend had nearly bleed out.

 

Collapsing against the the cabinets, she considered the effort it would take to get up. She needed a shower; her skin felt like she could peel it off from the layer of sweat and blood coating it but she didn’t have the physical or mental energy to move; let alone to drag herself back to their apartment.

 

Under protest they’d banished her from hospital with a demand that she rest, only allowing Thor to stay when she’d forged some documentation to say he was Jane’s husband (not that they would’ve been able to move him anyway).  

 

Thor had crumbled when he’d heard the news; torn between grief that such a thing had happened, anger that he hadn’t been there to protect his beloved, and pure fury that someone had dared to hurt her. Darcy had been the only thing that had kept him from the razing the city to the ground trying to find the culprit.

 

He’d looked at her like he knew she was something more that she appeared when she told him that the assassin was ‘gone’. Maybe he did know. For someone so affable, he played his cards pretty close to the chest.

 

The blood soaked into the legs of her jeans was dried and rough against her skin. She focused on the sensation, trying to center herself. Her emotions were a whirlwind, a mess of what she was feeling jumbled around what her new pet was feeling. ‘Cause now she had a best friend who’d nearly died and a feline companion that was the attempted murderer.

 

Somedays her life was crazier without alien princes then it was with them.

 

Her Nan would be delighted to know that Darcy had done this thing she’d always sworn not to do. Even more so that she was calling upon the training she’d fought so stubbornly to deal with the emotional fall out (though Nan’s explanation that it felt like ‘power’ was not an adequate descriptor of what it meant to tied to someone else so closely).

 

Darcy stared across the lab to where she knew the cat was cowering. The naturally tender part of her wanted to scoop him up to sooth the terror that had him shaking but from the conflict raging in him, she knew that he’d only lash out.

 

“I’m sorry that I did this to you,” the cats blue eyes narrowed at her, “but Jane’s the only family I have left.”

 

He considered her a moment before a rush of grief, guilt, and confusion hit her like a punch to the chest. Even though it would be even more of a violation of his autonomy then what she’d already done, Darcy wished she could read his mind. She wanted to know who was capable of pulling such strong emotions from someone who hadn’t batted an eye at her terrified scream.

 

Her stomach rumbled breaking their staring contest, “So, do you have any idea what cats can eat?”

 

The little shrug was evidence that more of the human remained then she had ever considered.

 

\------

 

Jane came home a few weeks after the attack, grumbling halfheartedly that she was perfectly capable of walking (thank you very much) the whole time Thor carried her from the car to the apartment. It was so typically Jane that Darcy felt some of the tension remaining from the attack relax.

 

Darcy had figured on the attack not doing much to slow her down since she’d barely batted an eye during the whole aether/dark elf thing. She’d worried though that it would change the way she looked at the world since there was a big difference between ‘someone is trying to kill everyone’ and ‘someone is trying to kill me’.

 

Thor gently laid Jane down on the couch as her eyes wandered over the stack of books , the brand new tablet, and the cache of her favorite treats that had been placed within reach. She smiled gratefully and turned towards Darcy, eyes pausing on the plump asshole eating the leftovers from lunch. He was content and a little nervous, which was understandable. If Darcy was being forced to live with the person she’d try to kill, she’d be nervous too.

 

“Huh, we have a cat now.”

 

“Uh, yeah,” she stated sheepishly. “Apparently the purring is supposed to be good for healing.”

 

Jane gave her a ‘I’m not buying your shit look’ but settled into the couch, “I’ve always liked cats.”

 

“You would.”

 

She ignored the unspoken question in the way Thors eyes darted between her and the cat and left him to fuss over Jane. Despite the fact that Jane would be out of commission for a while, there was still plenty to do. Speaking engagements to turn down, murderous organizations to identify, data to collate, all the little things that would let them jump right back into Science when they were ready.

 

She spent the afternoon with her head buried in her laptop, listening to the television and the quiet conversation between Jane and Thor. If she’d been paying attention to the uncertainty she’d been feeling, the shot of adrenaline wouldn’t have taken her so off guard. As it was, she looked up in time to see the cat launch itself onto the couch.

 

The chair fell back with a crash as she stood, heart hammering against her ribs.

 

“Hello friend,” Thor said, voice laced with humor. The cat ignored him with determination, giving the god his butt as he kneaded the blankets in Jane's lap.  He found his position and laid down, head too near where he’d hurt her for comfort. Even as Darcy’s heart slowed and her mind tried to process what she was feeling, she could make out a faint purr.

 

“Aw aren’t you adorable,” Jane put down the book she’d been reading to pet the beast. “You didn’t tell me his name, Darcy.”

 

“Uh,” her mind stuttered still too shocked that Jane was petting her assassin. She’d never bothered to name him, instead just calling him cat or the cat. “It’s Sir Grumps-a-lot.”

 

The look he shot her was proof cats could look disgusted. If he wanted a better name, he shouldn’t have tried to murder her best friend.

 

-=-=-

 

Darcy had grown up in a house full of black cats without ever interacting with them. She didn’t feed them, pet them, or take care of them in any way; too wracked with guilt that her Nan had been the one to take away their lives. She kinda wished she had, if only to know if staying so human was a not-a-cat cat thing or a Sir Grumps-a-lot thing.

 

She was learning though: cat food = no, medium rare steak (and various other human foods) = yes, sleeping at night = no, petting = yes definitely (especially Jane), airplanes = hell no.

 

The latter was a new one which made the flight to New York interesting. She wished Thor hadn’t returned to Asgard so soon after the Black Widow had come to take them to the Tower. Since it was by his wishes that they had made them move, the least he could’ve done was deal with Sir’s meltdown.

 

Jane had thought that it had something to do with the noise the plane was making. Trying to fit him with a pair of noise cancelling headphones had not helped though, at all. The only thing it had accomplished was convincing the Black Widow that they were both bat shit crazy. Which wasn’t necessarily an untruth. It just wasn’t true for the reason that Natasha obviously thought.

 

Sir had earned whatever effort they could expend to make his trip a little easier.

 

Since Jane had come home, he had become her shadow. Anytime she was hit with a panic attack or flashback, he’d be there in an instant. The irony of an assassin being one of the only sources of comfort for their victim did not escape Darcy but she could feel his honest remorse every time Jane needed help coping. It was enough that she had considered turning him back; if she was sure that the remorse would stay with him in human form she would’ve already but how much of his behaviour was animal instinct? How much was just him?

 

The first time Jane had a panic attack without Sir or Thor there to help calm her down, Darcy had registered him as a service animal. She’d be damned if he wasn’t around again when Jane needed him; he got a little vest and they all got a little peace of mind.

 

Turned out that for Sir, long walks in the park were second only to trips to the movies.

 

By the time Team Science arrived at the Tower, they were exhausted - with the humans physically a little worse for wear. Sir’s claws were vicious little knives, not even Natasha had escaped.

 

Darcy carefully put down the suspiciously still cat carrier. Peaking at the door she pointed at Sir’s balled form, “I’m gonna open the door. Don’t be a little shit.”

 

He narrowed his eyes at her, pushing himself up to wiggle his butt in preparation of freedom. She sighed in resignation knowing that he was going to be a little shit. Even without his obvious dislike of airplanes, Sir did not like being restrained; whenever he was his usual abundance of energy became more pronounced as the stress ate at him.  

 

“Run free,” she said opening the door. “Parkour. Do whatever your little cat heart desires. Just don’t break anything.”

 

He shot out, a blur of black as he ricocheted off a cabinet, onto a lab bench, and up onto a windowsill before continuing his loop of the room. She didn’t think cats were supposed to be able to move that fast, she’d have to be careful that no one got suspicious.

 

Most people would brush off a weird cat, the Avengers - who knew how they’d react. They’d tangoed with Loki, magic was not outside the realm of their experiences.

 

The door to their lab opened to admit Jane carrying a box of Sir’s many supplies. Spoiled cat.

 

“Jane,” she shouted wrestling the box away from her, “no carrying! You’re going to overexert yourself.”

 

Darcy shoved the box it in the corner with the rest of the shit they needed to unpack, grabbing the squirt bottle that was sticking out from her knapsack as she stood. It was a completely ineffectual training tool for Sir but she liked keeping it on her.

 

“Darcy,” Jane started exasperated, stopping at a splash of water hitting her in the face.

 

“Bad Jane.”

 

\---

 

Darcy shuffled around the kitchen listening to Jane get ready for her first full day of Science at the Tower, Sir circling her ankles once he realized she’d pulled eggs out. She absent mindedly rubbed at his head, ignoring the demanding meow. He was hungry and a little bored. Considering that he'd been an assassin she wondered briefly, not for the first time, if he had always been so impatient or if that was a cat thing.

 

“Hold your horses,” she grumbled under her breath knowing he’d hear it. Stupid ninja cat hearing.

 

She was flipping bacon when Jane tried to make her escape. Luckily Sir’s rush of indignation gave her enough warning that she just pointed her spatula at the fleeing figure and chastised her in her best mom voice, “Not until you’ve had breakfast.”

 

“But Tony -”

 

“Tony can wait until you have a full stomach.” Sir vocalized his agreement forcing Darcy to hide her smile.

 

“Traitor,” Jane said darkly as she slid onto a stool. Not that her tone stopped her from welcoming him into her lap.

 

When the three of them finally left for the lab, it was with a belly full of bacon, eggs, and coffee (for the humans). Sir dressed to the nines in his newly cleaned vest, leading the way as the self appointed protector.  

 

-=-=-

 

The assassin cat liked Captain America. Really really liked Captain America. Darcy didn't know how to process that or the sentimental guilt he projected every time they watch one of his specials. Moving into the building that Steve spent a good chunk of his time had caused lots of wistful cat sighs.

 

She hadn't even know that cats could sigh wistfully.

 

Sir still stayed with Jane but now his eyes continuously followed the handsome blonde. If Darcy couldn't feel his emotions, she'd think he had a crush. As it was she knew it was love.

 

“Is it his ass?” She asked Sir. Looking down at him from where they were lounging on the couch making their way through yet another Captain America History Channel marathon  He looked right at her to really get across his disbelief.

 

Whether it was at the question or the fact that she would think he'd love someone based on their derriere, she couldn't be sure.

 

“It's a pretty epic ass dude, I wouldn't fault you for it.”

 

Agreement.

 

“If it's not his ass then it's not the pecks of righteousness,” she stated frankly, pretty sure that if he could talk he'd be calling her an idiot. “It's cause he's such a sincere wiseass isn't it? You like ‘em sassy.”

 

Agreement.

 

“Score one for us having the same taste in partners. If you weren't a catssassin, I think we'd get along dude.”

 

Guilt. Uncertainty. Something else she couldn't put her finger on.

 

“Don't worry dude. You make a pretty great not-assassin cat.”

 

Still uncertainty.

 

“I'm not gonna move in on your adorable dork. I'm mean sure, I have an advantage not being a cat and all but it would be hella weird to share an epic love affair with a superhero and my cat.”

 

Humor. That faint feeling again that she finally pegged as interest.

 

“Dude!” shock and laughter laced her voice. Darcy held out her fist for Sir to pat which he obligingly did.

 

“Darcy, did you just fist bump Sir?” Jane’s incredulous voice sounded from behind the couch. Darcy twisted around briefly to see her standing in the hall, hair dripping onto her pajama shirt.

 

“Of course I did Jane.” she said hearing Jane flop on the adjacent sofa. “We had a shared moment of awesomeness. It ranked a fist bump.”

 

Jane snorted, “Glad to see you're in such a good mood.”

 

“I haven’t slept in two days Janie. This is delirium.”

 

“We scienced so hard,” the muffled voice was laced with pride. Darcy hoped that she wouldn’t fall asleep, the astrophysicist was not a napper; if she drifted off she’d be out cold only to wake up in the middle of the night.

 

“Yeah we did.” Darcy held her hand up, reaching behind her head to highfive Jane.

 

Sir vocalized his displeasure at her jostling of him, giving her a dirty look as he padded up her body. She let out an oof as he walked across her boobs and over her face, giving her a nice mouth full of fur in the process. “Sure, abandon me for the crazy science lady who kept us up all night. I see how it is.”

 

Jane laughed as the history channel droned on about the Howling Commandos.

 

-=-=-

 

Darcy’s life came crashing down on a Thursday.

 

She wandered into the common room, vaguely aware that Sam and Steve were discussing their upcoming mission. They’d been searching for the same person since before Darcy and Jane had moved in only returning to the Tower to regroup. As she was a lab lackey with acquaintance level access to most of the Avengers, her awareness of the details hadn’t been any more than the fact that the search obviously wore down on Steve.

 

Her biggest contribution to the tactical side of the house was a full candy bowl in the communal area. Their reward for going after the bastards that had sent a hitter after Jane. Hydra deserved all the pain that was raining down on them.

 

Grabbing a couple of pieces of fruit, she turned to leave pausing as her eyes caught on a stack of pictures spread out between the two men. More specifically one grainy image from a CCTV camera. She knew that mask; knew that uniform.

 

Without realizing her feet were moving her forward, she was next to them reaching between the two of them to take the offending picture.

 

“Darce?” Sam questioned cautiously.

 

It was him. It had to be him.

 

“Who,” her voice cracked. Darcy desperately tried to push down on the rising horror. “Who is this?”

 

Steve was up on his feet between one heartbeat and the next; pressing into her personal space, “Have you seen him? Do you know where he is.”

 

She barely tapped down on the hysterical laughter.

 

Know him? She lived with him.

 

“Who is he,” she cried again focusing on Sam. If she looked at Steve, it would be too easy to give into the flood of emotion overwhelming her.

 

“That’s Bucky,” Sam said evenly. “That’s who we've been looking for.”

 

Both men tensed at her horrified look, a wave of nausea washed over her threatening to spill the contents of her stomach onto the table. What had she done? Is this why her Nan had become more and more of a recluse as she’d aged? To never have to face this moment?

 

“Darcy.”

 

“I-” she started backing away from them. Before either of them could question her again, she was out the door.

 

Vaguely she could hear Steve and Sam calling her name as they followed her. Darcy whipped past the few people in the hall. No one even reacted to the fact that she was being chased by the Falcon and Captain America but then she had a pretty strong desire to get to the lab unhindered.

 

She flew into the lab at full speed, not pausing to get her bearings as she headed directly to where Sir was perched. She wrenched him from the shelf and turned back towards the door in time to see the two Avengers crash into the space. Neither had their gear but it didn’t stop them from looking for all the world as if they were ready to fight a war.

 

“Darcy!” three voices rang out. One aggravated at the intrusion. Two cautiously.

 

“I’m sorry,” she could feel the burn of tears. Sir fought against her hold, his panic flaring against her own. “He tried to kill Jane.”

 

Steve approached her with his hands spread as if trying to be non-threatening. She’d seen the videos of his fight in DC, knew what he could do. How anyone could believe for a moment that he wasn’t a threat, she couldn’t wrap her mind around. And she’d gone and turned his best friend into a cat.

 

Darcy turned her frightened eyes to Jane who’d fallen silent trying to figure out what was unfolding around her, “I didn’t know.”

 

“Do you know here Bucky is?” Steve’s voice was laced with more emotion than she could handle. Darcy couldn’t hope to stop the sob that was ripped out of her. It was too much. It was all too much.

 

Sir stilled. His terror washed over her, barely tempered by a thread of hope.

 

“I didn’t know,” she pushed out. She could see all expression wash out of Steve’s face, his mind racing towards the worse case scenario: she’d killed his best friend. Darcy shoved Sir at him trying to stave off the grief for something that hadn’t happened. “I turned him into a cat.”

 

Steve stumbled back as if she’d slapped him.

 

“That’s not funny Darcy,” Jane chimed in.

 

“No, it’s really not.” She kept her attention focused on Steve willing him to believe her. Believe the tears. Believe the fear. Believe that something extraordinary was possible. “I can turn him back. I promise.”

 

Both men turned to leave the lab. Sam shaking his head, hand on Steve’s shoulder propping him up against yet another failed hope. She could let them leave. The rest of her time with Jane would be plagued with the belief that she was cruel or crazy or both but she could. Sir could stay a cat. No one else would have to know what she did.

 

“No!” she yelled as much against herself as against them. The door to the lab slid shut keeping the two men from leaving, cracking slightly at force that it had been closed. “I’m telling the truth.”

 

She placed Sir on the ground, ignoring the way the stress in the room had spiked after her little display of power. He stayed at her feet, staring at Steve intensely. For once their emotions matched up. Wishing that they’d believe. Afraid they would.

 

She known there’d be consequences for what she’d done. She never expected this.

 

Darcy closed her eyes, her voice slow and melodic as the countercurse spilled from her lips. Sir leaned against her briefly before she felt him disappear. She couldn’t feel his emotions. Couldn’t tell where he was. In the sudden stillness of the room, the only indication she had that it worked was Sam’s, “Holy shit.”

 

Opening her eyes, she stumbled back trying not to look at Sir - Bucky - as he ripped his muzzle off. She tried to ignore them all as she slid out of the room.

 

“Bucky.”

 

“Steve.”

 

-=-=-

 

Jane’s bony hug and whispered thank you played on a loop in Darcy’s head every time she started to doubt whether she should stay at the Tower. Steve’s sharp nods when he saw her, Sams’ careful explanation that they all understood why she had done what she’d done and didn’t hold it against her, didn’t change the fact that they all looked at her differently.

 

Like she was a monster.

 

Darcy hugged her sweater closer, trying to block out the cold, unwilling to admit defeat and head back to the Tower. The park had become her salvation. Despite the fact that Steve had tried to keep what had happened a secret, everyone - at least those Avenger adjacent - seemed to know. Being in the park surrounded by strangers was a nice reminder of what life was like before it was filled with wary looks.

 

She was starting to understand her Nan more. She never thought she would. Out of everything, that that was the biggest mindfuck.

 

Someone sat down on the bench next to her and Darcy determinedly ignored them, instead watching a group of children enjoy one of the last few nice days before winter settled in for the long haul. Her first winter in New York. Hopefully it was more winter wonderland and less wet blanket like London had been.

 

Her whole body tensed as an arm dropped around her shoulder. She turned sharply ready to give whatever asshole daring to violate her personal space a piece of her mind, pausing at familiar blue eyes before the words could escape.

 

Sir.

 

 _Bucky_ , she sharply reminded herself.

 

Settling back against the bench, careful to maintain as much space as possible between them, she struggled to push out the words that had been weighing on her, “Can you ever forgive me?”

 

“You were protecting Jane,” he replied pulling her close. “There's nothing to forgive.”

 

They lapsed into a comfortable silence still watching the kids play. Darcy relaxed against Bucky's solid presence, enjoying the warmth he was putting off and the softness of his sweatshirt. The sun began to drop below the horizon turning the sky fantastic shades of orange and red.

 

“Besides,” he said picking up the strings of their dropped conversation, “turns out Hydra brainwashing doesn't work on cats so I should thank you for saving me years of deprogramming.”

 

“I should put out a brochure. The Lewis Procedure. Guaranteed to break programming and cause hairballs,” she snorted at the idea. Her Nan would rollover on her grave.

 

A rough hand turned her face up to look so she could read the sincerity in his features, “Thank you Darcy.”

 

Heat raced up her neck and cheeks forcing her to look away. She was starting to appreciate why the Captain America/Howling Commando specials always made a point of talking about Bucky's charm. That definitely hadn't carried over into his cat form. He’d been a little shit as a cat.

 

“Did it go both ways?” she asked, curiosity getting the best of her. “Could you feel what I felt?”

 

“No,” he replied, “but it was never hard to figure out what was going on in your head.”

 

Guilt washed through her again. It would've made her a little better if it has gone both ways.

 

“I’m never doing it again,” she said forcefully. The emotional rollercoaster wasn’t worth it. Yes, she knew if that she hadn’t done it, the Winter Soldier would’ve killed her but she didn’t think she could handle getting it wrong again.

 

What it she hadn’t seen that picture and Bucky had spent the rest of his life as a cat. There had to be a better way to do things, some spell that would’ve knocked him out.

 

If she’d only listed to her Nan.

 

“Hey,” Bucky grabbed her shoulders and turned her so they were facing each other, “if someone’s coming at you, you absolutely do it again. Got it?”

 

Darcy read the worry stretched across his features; remembered how protective he’d been with them, how helpless he’d always felt when the coverage of the Avengers fights was plastered everywhere on the news. Maybe she owed it to him to promise to take care of herself.

 

“I’ll try,” his grip relaxed on her shoulders.

 

Since the Avengers knew, she supposed that she could always turn them back once they were safely locked away.

 

He cocked his head, reminding her sharply of Sir when he was about to do something she’d told him not to. “What exactly can you do?”

 

“I don’t really know.” She didn’t, having done her best to avoid everything her Nan had ever tried to teach her. It had only been recently when she’d started looking at all the materials that had been left to her. “I was never interested in finding out.”

 

“We’ll be remedying that,” the sun completely dipped below the horizon, leaving them bathed in the glow of  scattered street lamps. He grabbed her hand, pulling her to her feet and back towards the Tower. “Wonder what's for dinner.”

 

“Well, Sam’s back in DC for the week so it’s whatever you or Steve whip up,” Darcy said running through her mental list of local take out. Jane was out with Thor for the night so she hadn’t planned on cooking.

 

He have her a look of disgust. “How about we grab a couple of pizza’s?”

 

“Sounds good,” she replied, unable to contain her warm smile.

 

-=-=-

 

He didn’t bother trying the handle, taking out the door with a well placed shoulder. The Winter Soldier may not have been able to feel fear but Bucky could. It was always at its worse when it was Jane or Darcy in the line of fire, not because they couldn’t handle themselves but that they were civilians.

 

Most civilians hesitated in the face of unexpected violence, that hesitation could mean their lives.  

 

When the call had come in that Crossbones had been spotted in the same town as Darcy and Jane, he hadn’t waited for the rest of the team. His mind had replaying their stubborn insistence that they didn’t need a ‘babysitter’, he only hoped that his decision to trust their belief didn’t have deadly consequences.

 

Bucky entered the lab ready for a fight, pausing only as his mind struggled to make sense of what he was seeing. He ignored Steve as he nearly blowed into his back, shield cracking the doorframe as he tried to stop his forward momentum.

 

His eyes darted from the hissing black cat trapped under an overturned laundry basket, the stack of thick books weighing it down, and the two women calmly eating lunch. He could see the scratches on her arms from where she’d probably tried to feed the damn thing.

 

Her default setting seemed to be to offer food.

 

“Darcy!” his voice came out sharper than he had intended as relief nearly knocked his legs out from under him.

 

She gave him a bright smile, as if he hadn’t just lost his mind with worry, “Oops?”

 

Bucky braced himself as Steve’s weight collapsed against him, his laughter keeping him from standing straight. He was reminded, as he took in Darcy’s innocent expression, of bloody noses and busted lips.

 

Why did he always pick the troublemakers?


End file.
